Happy Hour Amoré By Ingrid Bradley
I
t wasn’t until we were well underbut firmly guiding the rudder, being time, she’s got some news that hangs way that happy hour aboard Allie careful not to lose the water foil. heavy and low like the horizon’s storm Cat had meaning. Lines and sails Where did she get this patience, this clouds—news that may shape the way taut, looks of anticipation, the sunset steadfastness to guide the rudder so she lives the rest of her life—and I glow melting into their faces; it came seamlessly through 17-knot winds know this. That she’s focused on the to me as a surprise. It was transformand waves to match? Where did she tasks at hand on a boat this size with ing, an epiphany for these near 60- to garner the focus to make this happen aggressive winds and a storm ponder80-year-old gal pals whose company the first time ever? ing us bespeaks of strength and grace I’ve revered for so long. This sail had Then nautically adorned Jeanie, (like the sailboat). become something in the fabric of burgundy wine cooler in hand as a As if being wondrous about my their lives they hadn’t done or hadn’t foreground to a sunset lit sky, told lady crew was enough for this venture, done in a very long time. about her early sailing life and how the northwest clouds proved to signal Hardships and sacrifices, those tonight relives it, and it made me it was time to move quickly to harbor. only known by women who’ve harsmile noticing how the stars danced The ever looming swirled clouds, wind nessed the world of and ominous possibiliservitude, still wore ties rested on the horiheavy. I could see it, zon but looked impabut I also watched how tient. I lowered sails the wind, the sails and cranked the motor and the lap of the waves we headed to safe haragainst her hull gave bor. In my rush and way to ease, a kind of effort not to let them see orgasmic recollection me sweat, my leg was of all things pleasuracut and bleeding. They ble, ethereal. noticed, I shrugged— Bingo, they got it: they shrugged and conThe reason I’m out tinued chats. It’s what here when not surfing women do. Pain comes; or grading college they deal with it later, if papers; I’m copping at all. These women wind and feeling the have been through it all power of something as and more, yet the magic magnificent as sails of sail prevails and and hull together movtranscends. ing. It’s always been a My content crew bit sensual for me realnever noticed my rush, ly, having traded intermy urgency to stow Sailing on Allie Cat: On the left is Jeanie, Marliese at the helm est in boys for sailboats sails and get moving and Carla on the right. before I could drive. ahead of a surprise of No regrets here as they’ve served me off her eyes. These ladies dressed storms. We glided to dock with better than my mates. nautically, and I missed that in my aplomb, the ladies joined their husThis evening’s focus is about repertoire of pre-embarkation “tobands and significant others with the these women whose lives move withdos.” They have some details up grace only another generation enjoys. out the regular magic of sail. Yet, this their sleeves that I embrace, honor I secured Allie Cat and thanked her night, I see it as an elixir, a physical, and cherish. for all that. emotional and spiritual blast of pure And the younger Carla easily conHer name bespeaks many lives full-out happy hour bliss. Forget the templates the moments I might need and I had to recall my reason for buymartinis and go for a sail I say… her to take the helm, relax the boom ing her three years ago after my bout Marliese, who is caring for her vang or settle the sheets. She’s absorbwith a cancer from which only 10 perstroke-inflicted husband, grabs the ing the moments with careful contemSee HAPPY HOUR continued on page 61 stern with seasoned prowess, softly plation as we’ve sailed before, but this
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